


december 22nd: beneath the ice

by watergator



Series: december fic advent 2020 [22]
Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, M/M, Near Death Experiences, falling into water
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28244427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watergator/pseuds/watergator
Summary: prompt: ice skatingice skating over a frozen pond isn't always a good idea
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Series: december fic advent 2020 [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035978
Kudos: 14





	december 22nd: beneath the ice

When Kurt wakes, the first thing he does is stumble out of bed, almost tripping over his own feet as he runs towards his window, pressing his face against the glass, fogging it up with his breath as a grin breaks across his face, eyes lighting up at the sight of the snow that’s now blanketing the outside world. He doesn’t hesitate to spin on his heel, rushing out of his room to find his dad, skipping two, three steps at a time.   
  
“Dad! Dad!” he calls out before he skids to a halt as he reaches the kitchen, his dad looking at him from over his steaming cup of coffee, a brow raised in anticipation.   
  
“It’s snowing!” Kurt exclaims, with a slight lisp from where he’s still missing a tooth. It’d fallen out just a week ago, already whisked away by the tooth fairy who’d left him a nice five dollar bill under his pillow in return.   
  
But Kurt wasn’t thinking of the tooth fairy right now. All he wanted to do was get outside and go play in the snow.   
  
“It came down quite heavy last night, huh?” His dad grunts, turning his head to look through the back door window where the backyard is just a sheet of white now. The little wonky birdhouse has a sprinkling of snow on the roof that’s beginning to slide down slightly.   
  
“Can I go play?” Kurt asks, rocking back and forth on his heels in anticipation, and his dad chuckles into his coffee.   
  
“Sure,” he says easily, and just as Kurt’s about to rush off, his dad speaks again, stopping him in his tracks. “But breakfast first. Then we gotta get you dressed, and then I wanna see those teeth of yours, okay?”   
  
Kurt knows better to argue, so he makes quick steps to fridge, takes out the bread and gets to making the world's fastest toast.   
  
*   
  
Kurt eventually has the blessing of his father to go out in the snow, after having his scarf and gloves checked over three times, he’s squirming away, calling out to his dad that he’s going off to the park, and that he’ll be back in time for lunch.   
  
Just as Kurt is slipping down his driveway, he hears heavy breathing, and he looks up to see his neighbour, Blaine grinning up at him, also missing a tooth.

They’d become friends over the summer when Blaine and his family had moved across the street. Kurt was never really any good at making friends at school since nobody in his grade seemed to like any of the things he did. But Blaine was easy to get along with, hanging out during and after school made it easy for them to become friends, hence why now they were stood on his driveway together with excitable grins to match   
  
“Kurt!” He calls out, his voice is just slightly muffled from where his scarf is wrapped around his face, a tiny pink nose pokes out, his curls stuffed under his knitted hat, and Kurt smiles at the sight of his friend. He has a red plastic sledge tucked under his arm as he rocks on the balls of his feet rather expectantly.    
  
“I’m going to the park,” Kurt tells him, wobbling on the slightly icy floor, grabbing onto Blaine’s arm as they make careful steps. “Wanna come? We can make a snowman; there’s enough here for a load of them I reckon.”   
  
Blaine doesn’t need to be asked twice as he follows Kurt in the direction of the park.   
  
*   
  
Burt had only recently started to trust Kurt to take himself to the park; it was only a ten minute walk away from the house, and their neighbourhood was relatively safe. But Burt had mainly grated him the permission because after last year with Kurt losing his mom, he’d felt the need to give Kurt his own space to grow. It started with letting him walk to the bus stop by himself on school mornings, then with the park. The last thing he wanted was to suffocate his son, especially after everything, he didn’t want to become one of those helicopter parents, hence why he had no qualms with sending his son off to go play in the snow. He was nine, now. And he should be allowed a little freedom, especially during the holiday season where he noticed his son was a little more… melancholy than usual. But it was to be expected with the death of his mother so close to the holidays, and Burt was determined to help his boy in any way he could.   
  
Despite it only being a ten minute walk, it takes Kurt and Blaine a little longer to trudge through the snow, their little legs grow tired once they reach the park. It’s surprisingly empty, but neither of the boys care, as they run through the untouched snow, giggling after each other. They pull the sledge along with them; there’s not enough big hills to really get any good speed, but they take turns in being pulled along until they get tired, and the sledge is discarded in the snow as they chase after one another.    
  
Blaine jumps, falling onto his back with a soft  _ oof _ , and Kurt soon followers, landing right beside him.   
  
“Snow angels,” Blaine says, looking at Kurt as he starts to move his arms and legs out, the snow moving around him, and once again, Kurt follows, breathing heavy as his arms and legs start to ache.   
  
“Here,” Blaine stands, treading carefully to not destroy the shaped snow on the ground. “Gimme your hand.”   
  
Kurt takes his outstretched gloved hand, being pulled up as he leaps, trying not to ruin his work as he turns around to admire them both.   
  
They’re not exactly perfect but there’s two angels in the snow, laying beside each other, and Blaine looks at Kurt with a delighted grin, and with that he sets off.    
  
“Come on!” he calls behind him as he keeps running. “Lets see who can make the bestest snowman!”   
  
*   
  
They spend a while rolling snow around, pushing and falling as the balls of snow grow bigger and heavier. Blaine is on his second ball whilst Kurt struggles with the first ball. He rolls it again when a chunk of the side crumbles, and the ball he’d been perfecting is now misshapen. He frowns.   
  
“What’s wrong?” Blaine asks, and when Kurt looks round at him, he feels slightly envious from the way Blaine’s snowman seems so perfect as he smooths over the top half with his hands, a brow quirked in concern as he looks over at Kurt’s misshapen ball.   
  
“It’s… It’s not working!” Kurt huffs, scooping up more snow to slap against the ball to see if maybe it’ll help, but more of it just crumbles away again.   
  
Blaine gives a breathy laugh as he trudges over to him, bending down to do the same, except this time, it works, and no snow falls away.   
  
“You just have to get it into a really tight ball,” Blaine explains to him, showing him as he scoops up another ball, holding it between his gloves before he shows Kurt the almost perfect ball of snow.   
  
Kurt furrows his brows. “I think you’re just better at it than me,” he shrugs, kicking lightly at the snow beneath him.   
  
Blaine snorts. “You can’t be good at  _ everything _ , Kurt,” he says, jabbing his elbow into his side, making him wobble just slightly.   
  
“We’ll see about that,” Kurt grins, sticking his tongue out in concentration as he starts to pile on more snow, patting it down with a heavy concentration.

*

Not long after that, they have two snowmen, side by side.

If it were a competition, Blaine would have won by a mile, Kurt thinks to himself as he admires the almost perfect creation. He’s still not sure how Blaine managed to get the snow to stay so round and smooth, but there’s a little face drawn into the top ball, and two twigs for arms with a couple of oddly shaped stones as buttons.

Kurt had used an old bottle top as a nose, since they didn’t have any carrots, and the twigs he’d found were broken and different lengths.

“Yours is just… a bit wonky,” Blaine comments, tilting his head to the side as if to properly admire it. “It’s cool, though. I like it.”

Kurt hums. It doesn’t really look like a snowman.

“It needs something else,” Kurt says, chewing on his lower lip as he complentates his options. Then, it’s like a lightbulb going off in his head.

“Oh!” He squeaks, grabbing his scarf and pulling it away from his neck, Blaine just watches in confusion. “I know what he needs.”

He’s pulling away his scarf, and then his hat comes off and his gloves, before he’s throwing them only his snowman, grinning from ear to ear at how much better it’s looking already.

“Uh, shouldn’t you keep them on yourself?” Blaine asks, looking between the snowman and Kurt, but Kurt shakes his head confidently as he unzips his coat, carefully throwing it around the snow at, poking the twigs through the sleeves.

“Nah,” he dismisses his friend. “I’m way too hot after all that running around,” he tells him as he takes a step back. “Aren’t you?”

Blaine shifts, the snow crunching beneath him. “Yeah, but my mama told me to keep my coat on,” he mumbles. “You could catch a cold like that.”

Kurt just sniffs, as if to prove a point, and he sticks his chest out rather defensive. “Well I feel fine, and you’re not  _ my  _ mom, so quit worrying,” he smiles, and Blaine smiles in return.

“Anyway, I wanted to show you something,” Kurt then tells him, reaching over to grab his hand. “Come on, follow me.”

*

Kurt leads them out of the part and into an old cow field just behind the park. Blaine is hesitant at first, adamant that he was strictly told not to leave the park, but Kurt assures him that one fence separating the park and the field isn’t going to hurt anyone, so Blaine jumps over the fence following his friend as they trudge through more untouched snow. 

The field is pretty much the same as the park just without the equipment. It’s a seemingly endless blanket of white, and they’re both catching their breath when Blaine speaks.

“What are we doing in here anyways?” He asks Kurt who has an excited look about him.

“Look,” is all Kurt says, dragging him a little bit further, and just as Blaine is about to ask him again what they’re doing, it’s then that he spots the pond – or at least, what  _ was  _ a pond, and is instead, a frozen over pond, ice thick on the top, the murky water beneath is barely visible.

Blaine makes careful steps towards the edge.

“My mom used to take me skating,” Kurt tells him, and with that, he steps onto the ice.

Blaine’s breath catches in his throat, body going tense before he sees that Kurt’s still making steady steps across the ice, looking like it’ll easily hold his weight. 

“I was good at it,” he muses, voice trailing off as he gets further and further, when he stops to turn to look back at Blaine. “You not coming?” He asks.

Blaine looks at the ice, swallows thickly as he looks at Kurt. “I dunno,” he shrugs. “Is it safe?”

Kurt answers his question by stomping his foot against the ice, and when nothing happens, Blaine feels the air rush out of his lungs. 

“We can see who can skate the best,” Kurt suggests, then he quirks his brows. “Unless you’re scared of losing to me.”

Blaine frowns. “It’s not that, Kurt, it just… my mama told me that frozen water is dangerous.”

Kurt’s spinning in circles, arms tucked into himself when he stops to face Blaine, scoffing as he makes a face.

“Blaine, the ice is thick enough to hold us both. People skate across this pond all the time in the winter.”

Blaine makes a careful step towards the edge of the ice. “Are you sure?” He asks softly and Kurt laughs.

“Of course I’m sure. Look,” he skates forward, holding an outstretched arm out towards him. “You can take my hand if you want.”

Kurts expression is kind, and when Blaine takes his hand, grabbing on tightly, letting his whole body be pulled along the ice.

Kurt’s clearly pleased with himself as he laughs, Blaine’s legs wobble beneath him and he holds Kurt’s hand tighter as the move away from the edge.

“Try and stand up straight,” Kurt directs him, his grip on his hand becomes a little looser, as he starts to drift away.

“If you need to balance just keep your arms out like this,” he demonstrates by holding the T pose, and Blaine quickly does the same as he wobbles and slides.

“It’d be better if we had proper skates,” Kurt says, doing a little twirl and then standing straight again. “But you’re doing okay.”

Blaine’s able to stand without falling over, and then, with Kurt’s encouragement he glides in slow steps, following Kurt as he moves like a professional, Blaine stumbling behind him like a baby elephant.

Kurt throws his head over his shoulder and grins at Blaine.

“You’re getting the hang of it!” He calls out before he does another spin, laughing with glee as he keeps spinning, and Blaine laughs too.

It’s then as Blaine is skating in a small circle by the edge that a car somewhere backfires, the echo of the engine cracks across the sky, and Blaine jumps with a yelp, falling backwards onto the snowy grass with a soft thud.   
  
He brushes the snow off his knees as he sits up to see where Kurt is maybe two, three feet away doubled over with laughter before he straightens up to give him a sympathetic smile.   
  
“Blaine, are you-”   
  
His next words are cut off by a scream, and one second Kurt is there, the next he’s gone as the ice beneath him gives way and he’s plunging into the icy cold water.   
  
He tries to scream, but nothing comes out, and instead his lungs burn as he thrashes in the water as it pinches at his skin. He reaches a hand up, but he’s met with a thick sheet of ice, his knuckles punch against it in panic, the pain vibrating through his hand and down his arm. He can’t breathe and his heart is kicking against his chest in sheer terror. He tries to scream again but more water is swallowed down, and he’s coughing and spluttering desperate for air as nothing but bubbles escape past his lips.    
  
His body is cold, tired and numb, and he feels his heart slow in his chest, his legs and arms stop moving, and he closes his eyes.   
  
It feels like it takes an eternity for his eyes to close, but the second he does, he feels something grab at his jumper, and he’s being pulled upwards.   
  
It takes a few tugs, but eventually his face breaks the surface of the water. He doesn’t even have the energy to take a breath when he’s suddenly slipping back under the water again, and the last thing he hears is Blaine’s desperate call of his name.   
  
*   
  
Kurt feels his chest burn, his throat is sore, and when he opens his eyes, his body wills him to move, and to breathe.   
  
So he does, or at least, he tries as he coughs, harsh enough to dislodge what water still rests in his lungs, and he’s coughing harder now, rolling over onto his side to spit up the pond water with a grimace.   
  
“Kurt?!” Blaine’s voice cracks, pleading with him and thick with emotion, and when Kurt’s vision clears properly, he can see the other boy leaning over him, his face contorted with fear, eyes flickering over him, unsure.   
  
“Bla-” Kurt tries to say, his voice raspy and sore and he just coughs again, more water dribbles from the corner of his mouth. “So cold,” he manages to whisper.   
  
“I have your coat,” Blaine tells him, holding it up and frowning. “It’s all damp from the snowman,” he then adds. “Kurt you need to get up, can you stand?”   
  
Kurt feels weak all over, and despite the cold beneath his skin and the ache in his lungs, Kurt would rather just lay on the cold, wet snow and not ever get back up again.   
  
Blaine’s crying; he can hear his little whimpers and sniffles. “Kurt, c’mon,” he tries but Kurt really doesn’t want to move - he’s not sure he has the energy for it.   
  
“We need to get help,” Blaine pleads with him. “Just try and stand and maybe I can… maybe I can lift you?”   
  
Even in his haziness, Kurt knows it’ll never work - Kurt has at least two inches on poor Blaine. There’s no way he’ll be able to carry him all the way home.   
  
“I feel funny,” Kurt mumbles. He tries to wiggle his toes, but it feels like there’s nothing there inside his boot, like it’s just tv static instead.   
  
“Kurt, please, just roll over so maybe I can push you up.”   
  
“So cold,” Kurt mumbles, and he really wishes he hadn’t shed all of his winter gear for his stupid snowman. Still, he thinks, if he had it on when he was on the ice, it’d only be more wet.

“Maybe I should run home,” Blaine says quietly. “I could be really fast and go get your dad.”   
  
Kurt doesn’t want to be left alone. He wonders if this is what dying feels like.

He can’t remember even opening his mouth to speak, or even what he said, but Blaine is hiccuping a sob, and he’s gripping onto him so tight, it feels like he’ll never let go.   
  
“I won’t leave you,” Blaine tells him, voice wobbling. “You’re not gonna die, okay?”   
  
Kurt whimpers, he just feels numb all over and his head is starting to hurt. He’s not sure how long he wasn’t breathing for, but his whole body is definitely taking the brunt of it. Stupid ice, stupid pond, and stupid him for ever thinking it was a good idea. Stupid him for putting Blaine in danger too.   
  
“The sledge!” Blaine then exclaims, standing up so fast he nearly topples back over. “Kurt, the sledge. Just stay there, okay?”   
  
Kurt lets his eyes shut and it feels like an eternity until Blaine is scrambling back beside him, his breathing is heavy and he’s shaking his shoulder slightly, his eyes peel back open to look at him.  


“I’m gonna roll you over onto it, okay?” Blaine asks, not waiting for an answer before he’s pushing Kurt up onto his side, the sledge digs into his side painfully, but he’s falling back over again. It’s not the most comfortable thing ever, but there’s not much room for complaints, so Kurt says nothing.   
  
“I’ll pull you home, okay? If you think you’re gonna fall off just yell okay?” Blaine stands, walking so he’s out of sight and Kurt can feel the tug of the rope as Blaine starts to pull.   
  
It takes a while with Blaine huffing and puffing, having to stop every now and then as he regains his grip on the rope, and Kurt feels the cool air settle into him, teeth beginning to chatter.   
  
There’s something warm being pulled across him, and after a few sluggish attempts, he opens his eyes and looks up to see that Blaine’s draped his coat over him. He manages a small smile, closing his eyes again.   
  
He’s not sure how long they’re shut for, because they fly open when he hears Blaine grunt, loudly.   
  
“Wha?” he rasps but Blaine must not hear him because he’s sniffling now, hiccuping, sounding frustrated.   
  
“Fence,” he hears him say. “Stupid, stupid fence, there’s a fence, how am I gonna pull the sledge over the fence?”   
  
Kurt shivers, trying desperately to burrow under Blaine’s coat, but with his clothes still wet and stuck to his skin, he can’t get warm at all.   
  
“Blaine,” Kurt whispers, he wants to go home, he wants his dad. He’s scared, and he can tell Blaine is scared too. “Blaine,” he whispers again.   
  
Blaine sniffs, as if to help stop his crying when he kneels down beside Kurt, and he’s quickly pulling off his own hat and gloves, his curls come free.   
  
‘Here,” Blaine says as he fits the hat over his head, pulling it down over his face, over his eyes almost, then shoving his hands into his gloves. “Just, just don’t fall asleep, okay?”   
  
Kurt nods, though it’s nothing he can promise. The colder he becomes, the more tired he grows.    
  
“I just need…” Blaine trails off and he stands and walks away, and Kurt wishes desperately he’d just stay here with him, maybe hold his hand, but Blaine is already walking away, clearly trying to find a way to get over the fence they’d hopped over earlier.    
  
Kurt’s feeling himself fall deeper and deeper, and suddenly, after everything, he feels warm, like someone had turned the temperature up on the earth, and the snow was melting away. It felt like winter turning to spring, and Kurt felt himself starting to fall asleep despite Blaine’s protests of not to.   
  
He couldn’t help it; it was like second nature as he closed his eyes, the world around him already growing dark as the stars above him started to twinkle, and despite the sharp plastic of the sledge in his back, he felt as if he could sleep here forever.   
  
He’s almost there, touching the bottom of his consciousness with the tips of his toes when he hears a voice. It’s faded and distant, and muffled, like he’s back underwater, and Kurt has to force himself to open his eyes when Blaine’s right in his face, his grin is wide and there’s still fresh tears in his eyes.   
  
“--okay, you dad! He’s here-- Mr Hummel!”   
  
Blaine’s standing back up, cupping his hands around his mouth to make his tiny voice carry across the field and the park and Kurt feels foggy and confused as to how and why his dad is suddenly here. Did Blaine get him? Did he manage to get him over the fence?   
  
It doesn’t matter, because Burt’s voice calls back to him, loud and strong, calling his name over and over as Blaine calls back, voice cracking with desperation.   
  
His dad is then suddenly at his side, a firm hand on his shoulder, and Kurt flutters his eyes open a crack to look up at the horrified expression painted across his face.   
  
“He fell into the ice,” Blaine explains nervously. “I pulled him out but he was sleeping, I think, I’m sorry, Mr Hummel, I’m so--”   
  
Blaine doesn’t have a chance to apologize further before Burt is handing him back his coat.   
  
“Here, son, you must be freezing,” he zips it up before he’s swiftly taking off his own coat and putting it over Kurt. It’s significantly warmer, Kurt notices.   
  
“Come on,” he mutters, scooping Kurt up, the coat is far too big, covering him like a blanket. “I need to get you to a hospital, kiddo.”   
  
His voice is shaking slightly, and there had only been one time Kurt had heard his father sound this scared, and that was the night his mother had died. He buries his face in his dad’s neck where it smells like him.   
  
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, teeth clattering together as his dad holds him tightly, practically running in the direction of home.   
  
“I’ve got you now,” his dad touches at his head, still damp from the pond. “I got you, okay?”   
  
Blaine must be struggling to keep up because when Kurt opens his eyes, he can see the other boy flapping up and down in the snow, trying to follow in the footsteps of his dad, the snow thick up to his shins.   
  
“Blaine…” Kurt croaks and Burt stops only for a second to look back at the boy, the carries on.   
  
“It’s okay,” Burt assures him. “You’re both okay,” he says. “You’re both okay.”   
  
*   
  
Once they reach home, Burt’s grabbing blankets and a handful of dry clothes before he’s throwing it all in the truck, Kurt bundled underneath it all.    
  
His dad has to buckle him in because he’s too tired to do it himself, and just before they take off, he opens his eyes.    
  
“Blaine,” he mutters and Burt looks over at him as he starts the ignition. “Can he…”   
  
Kurt doesn’t need to finish his sentence because the side door of the truck opens and Blaine is clambering in beside him, Burt looking at him slightly bewildered.   
  
“Mama said it was okay if it’s okay with you,” Blaine explains a little breathlessly.   
  
Burt blinks at him, then nods. He turns back around and starts the truck, already reversing off the drive.   
  
Kurt still feels fuzzy and tired, and the weird warm feeling is going away which despite the chill under his skin, he feels a little more grounded, and when Blaine reaches over, takes his hand in his, and gives it a tight squeeze, he knows he’s not going anywhere anytime soon. 

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr !! @watergator


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